The Stripper
by Felgia Starr
Summary: A day in the life of Hermione Granger, the stripper. Written for Dramione Fanfiction Writers' "Troping Thursdays" on Facebook. TW: non-con


Hermione let out a sigh, pulling the gold dress up her body. She adjusted the tie that was keeping the dress on her body on the back of her neck so she would feel more comfortable.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was ashamed of what she saw.

She sighed once again and picked up her shimmery gold lipstick, applying it to her lips. She removed the hair tie from her hair, letting it come undone. They told her that her personal client for the night loved his women wild.

She narrowed her eyes at her own reflection. Something was missing. She reached for a comb, using it to give her hair more volume. She wondered if she was wild enough for him. She slowly put on the big hoop earrings. Damn, it was almost big enough to hide her insecurities. She decided not to put on matching bracelets.

She carefully slid her feet into her six-inch black heels.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again. She was finally ready.

She was escorted by her fellow strippers to one of the private rooms. The room was illuminated by, of course, yellow light. It had no windows, but there was air-conditioning so Hermione didn't feel hot, yet.

She was a bit surprised when she saw no metal pole for her to dance on, but instead a black leathered tantra chair. She concluded that she was supposed to pose there sexily as she waited for her client, so she did. She lay down on the tantra chair, making it so her back arched and her breasts were pushed up. She crossed her legs when she'd felt like the pose looked too awkward.

She did the sign of the cross and prayed. She prayed for God to forgive her, to accept her, and love her. She prayed for strength and courage for the night. She prayed that enough money would be given to her tonight so she could pay the electrical bills.

She never liked stripping. She loved the power it gave her, the satisfaction of making a man want her, but she hated the toxicity of the other strippers. Before she had come here, she was so full of confidence. She was completely satisfied with her body. But that all changed when other strippers told her that she wasn't making enough money because of her small breasts and her flat bum. They made her feel insecure. She sometimes felt like she was trapped.

She hoped that she could retire soon, honestly, but she knew that wasn't probable. She wanted to graduate with at least a bachelor's degree and that couldn't happen if she didn't strip. Her parents had died when she was in her senior year of high school and the money they had left her had been good enough for at least one year, but not for the rest of her college days. So here she was now, working as a waitress during the day and a stripper during the night. Sometimes the money she made wasn't enough. There were a few weeks that she skipped eating just so she could afford the things she needed for school. It was so hard to -

The door opened.

Hermione put up her seductive expression instantly and mentally prepared herself for what was about to happen.

"You've made me wait for _sooo_ long," she purred, turning her head to look at the man she was supposed to entertain for tonight.

She gasped when she'd recognized him.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, hands shoved into his pockets and a smirk playing on his lips. He looked as arrogant as he did back in high school, the git.

Hermione felt humiliation creeping up her veins. This feeling wasn't new when it came to Malfoy. It was the same thing she would feel every time he would call her ugly names and offensive words when they were younger.

"So sorry I was late, love," Malfoy chuckled mockingly.

She hastily sat up, glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I came to watch you _perform_."

"Forget it," she growled, making a move to leave.

He grabbed her arm, pulling her to him forcefully.

"I've got a lot of money, Granger," he harshly whispered into her ear, "something tells me that you need a lot of money."

Hermione glowered at him. She did need a lot of money, but she wouldn't lower her standards to Malfoy's level.

"Come on," he breathed, untying the knot of her dress. "Strip for me."

Her gold dress fell into the floor. She was only wearing a jeweled G-string and a bra that went around her neck.  
She did her show. The music played and she ground herself on Malfoy. She did splits for him. She humped the tantra chair for him. She used her body to tease him. She pushed her arse on Malfoy's crotch, gulping when she'd felt his erection. She turned around and straddled him, making sure to push intently into his aroused dick.

Then, he suddenly grabbed her crotch and she gasped despite herself. He easily broke through the thin garment covering her heat. He'd somehow found her clit and pinched it. She gasped again and then -

"No!" Hermione pushed herself off of him.

Malfoy stared at her, confused.

"I-I'm not a prostitute, Malfoy!"

"Really?"

She lost control and slapped him across the face. Malfoy touched his cheek and turned to glare at her. He grabbed her arms and pinned her against the wall. She tried to push him away but to no avail. He forced two fingers inside her. She came when he'd squeezed her clit again. She heard him put his trousers down and then she felt his prick stretching her open. He brought her to another orgasm before he ejaculated.

He tossed her his wallet after it was over. It was more than she earned in a month so she gripped the wallet tightly – as if she was afraid of losing it.

When she'd gone home, she rubbed her skin until it was raw and red. Then, she had cried, feeling dirtier than a rat in the sewers.


End file.
